


marrying you

by lorene



Series: you [4]
Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: AU, Domestic, M/M, Marriage, Road Trips, Slice of Life, Wedding fever
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-24
Updated: 2016-10-25
Packaged: 2018-08-24 08:04:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8364367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lorene/pseuds/lorene
Summary: “Hold on-” Connor actually set his phone down this time. “You expect us to come? To drive all the way to Las Vegas and put all those miles on our car just so you and Mitchell can pull up into a neon drive thru that reeks of tequila in sweats? All because you don't want to put the money down for fancy invitations? No way, that's stupid!” He exclaimed, perplexed and looked between him and Jack before continuing.“If anyone's getting married, there is going to be a legit wedding with a tiny but charming cake topper of you and Mitch and I expect to see quality napkin holders goddamnit.” Connor even banged his fist on the table, but very lightly because he was Connor and didn't want to disturb the people sitting near them.





	1. one

**Author's Note:**

> alright, this is the last installment of the you series. there will be four parts to this and I will post the second chapter tomorrow. ENJOY!

"You know-” Dylan guessed this was cool. Or something.

  
Honestly, he should have been used to it by now. “If you would have sucked it up and ate at my brother’s, I would not be having to pay $55.95 for a damn lobster ravioli and side salad."

  
He was genuinely annoyed at that- almost sixty dollars for a fucking bowl of pasta. But could he be surprised exactly? The restaurant they were at was so ridiculously overrated, which was the main reason Mitch had insisted on them coming here. Well- _that_ and because the waiters spoke actual Italian. Mitch had actually squealed when he read that on the Yelp reviews.

  
However, Dylan didn't speak Italian and there was a much better option right around the block from here that was extremely reasonably priced.

  
Mitch just looked at him over the brim of his oversized menu. “I would rather pay for a hundred dollar meal than go to Ryan Strome’s fake Italian _joint_ where he would go out of his way as the owner to sit us at the shittiest table by the kitchen.”

  
There was a soft amber lamp hanging over them, it created a halo effect around Mitch’s face and Dylan supposed he looked angelic or something like that.

  
“First of all, a fake Italian joint that you and I have shared many wonderful dinners at. Second of all,” He held up his hands as a _wait_ _for_ _it_ motion, “- he only did that once.”

  
Mitch rolled his eyes exaggeratedly. He folded the menu shut and clasped his hands together, like he was waiting for Dylan to continue.

  
“Sitting by the kitchen wasn’t so bad and both our entrees combined would have been under fifty bucks.” Dylan said, and laid his own menu flat to point at the price for the lobster ravioli. It really was unbelievable. “Look!”

  
Mitch wore a bored expression. “Yeah so? Aren't I worth an expensive dinner once in awhile?”

  
Taking a sip of his ice water that he was also probably being charged for, Dylan shrugged. “I mean…” He made a gesture like he was weighing the options.

  
“Why is my husband so cheap all of a sudden.” Mitch frowned.

  
Dylan watched him reach in the bread basket and take out a torn off piece of sourdough, popping it into his mouth. He bit down his bottom lip to suppress his grin, “We’re not married yet, I’m your fiance. Don’t you know how this works?”

  
“I don’t care if we’re not married yet, you agreed to spend the rest of your life with me-” Mitch was interrupted by their waitress. She took down their orders in English thank god and this is how dumb Mitch was- he asked about the specials twice and didn't even order one, deciding to go with the salmon instead. When the waitress walked away, he continued right here he left off. “Therefore you are my beloved husband.”

  
Dylan snorted. “I can still be your beloved, just not your husband yet.”

  
Seemingly distracted by his reflection in the silverware, Mitch ignored him. To give him some credit, Dylan's never actually seen his reflection in the silverware at _Hot_ _Tomato_ _Strome’s_. “Also, I'm just letting you know right now that Ryan isn't catering at our wedding.” Mitch casually told him.

  
Dylan couldn't help but scoff a little at that, “And I’m letting you know right now that this place isn't catering at our wedding.”

  
He swung his foot under the table, accidently kicking Mitch right in the shin, to which he raised his eyebrows at, “Is that right?”

  
Dylan matched his expression, “That wasn’t on purpose, I swear.”

  
“ _Uh-huh_.”

  
\---

  
So, planning a wedding seemed like more work than he thought. Judging by those thick, binder like bridal magazines that Mitch likes to read- there was a shit ton of things to fight over, agree on and pay for. Emphasis on a shit ton of things to _pay_ _for_.

  
They hadn't officially started any planning yet and Dylan already knew he didn't care, didn't want to care about centrepieces or colour schemes or fucking _flowers_.

  
“Here's what you need to do-” Jack started, setting his elbows on the table making the silverware rattle. He waited for a minute, letting the anticipation build up and Dylan leaned into it, waiting. “Vegas.”

  
That made Connor looked up from his phone, eyebrows furrowed together tightly. “No, you can't tell him that. They need to have a big legit wedding.”

  
“Drive thru weddings are legit weddings.” Jack countered to which Connor gave him a look across the table. He then turned to Dylan, “You should hire a wedding planner, they’ll take care of all that stuff and you can just leave them with Mitch. I'm sure he knows exactly what he wants.”

  
“ _Vegas_.” Jack whispers.

  
Honestly, Vegas didn't sound like a bad idea. He didn't want a huge ceremony thing and it would be a hell of a lot cheaper than paying for a little over a hundred people's dinner plus drinks along with a million other things. He wasn't even totally sure if Mitch had to have a big wedding either. Just because he liked looking at the magazines doesn't mean he actually wanted all of that, right?

  
“Look up how much a plane ticket would cost.” Dylan says a little demandingly and Connor’s mouth hung open, like he was going to protest but nothing came out. “I'm not- I just want to see how much a plane ticket would cost.”

  
Jack was grinning inconspicuously into his coffee. Connor started cautiously typing away on his phone somehow all while glaring up at Jack.

  
“Uhh, so you’re looking at about four hundred per ticket.” he said after a few moments.

  
Dylan’s shoulders dropped, “What's the drive time?”

  
Now both Connor and Jack were staring at him, “You would rather drive to Las Vegas than pay eight hundred dollars to fucking fly there?” Jack expressed, his eyes were as wide as saucers.

  
“Wow, you really are cheap.” Connor snorted and Dylan almost preferred when him and Mitch were fighting.

  
He smacked Connor on the shoulder. “Look, Mitch has zero money in his savings. Every cent that goes into this wedding, is clearly coming from me. If I can convince him that Vegas is the better option, I’m sure as hell not wasting eight hundred dollars that could be used towards this months rent on overpriced plane tickets.”

  
And Jesus Christ- Connor really needed to learn how to close his mouth. “ _Overpriced_? Dylan, you would be flying to another country for crying out loud.”

  
“Yeah and be there in like what four, five hours?” Jack added.

  
Dylan thought about it. Eight hundred dollars could also cover the expenses to actually get married in Vegas and they would still have some left over.

  
Okay. Maybe he was cheap but whatever. This was his money, he could use it as he wants so Dylan ignored both of them. “One of you fuckers google how long it would take to drive there.”

  
“Dyl…” Connor sighed and after a second, “Thirty-two hours.”

  
“Okay,” he nodded. “A day and a half. So that's like…with my car probably like eighty in gas and another seventy or eighty for a motel room for the night…”

  
Jack looked at Connor, who looked genuinely concerned now and snickered. “Jesus, not even a hotel but a motel.”

  
Dylan again, ignored him. “And that's just for me and Mitch- I hope you don't think I'm paying for you guys.”

  
“Hold on-” Connor actually set his phone down this time. “You expect us to come? To drive all the way to Las Vegas and put all those miles on our car just so you and Mitchell can pull up into a neon drive thru that reeks of tequila in _sweatpants_? All because you don't want to put the money down for fancy invitations? No way, that's stupid!” He exclaimed, obviously perplexed and his eyes darted rapidly between him and Jack.

  
“If _anyone's_ getting married, there is going to be a legit wedding with a tiny but charming cake topper of you and Mitch and I expect to see quality napkin holders _goddamnit_!” Connor even banged his fist on the table, but very lightly because he was Connor and didn't want to disturb the people sitting near them.

  
Both Dylan and Jack stared at him for a minute, until Jack just shook his head, ignoring his outburst and leaned forward in his seat towards Dylan. “I don't expect you to pay for our travels to Vegas. I’m just saying at least take your future husband, the supposed love of your life to a hotel where he’s not going to get lice from the pillow cases.”

  
“Okay maybe I can spare a bit of change for a Holiday Inn.” Dylan said.

  
Jack tilted his head to the side and squinted. “Uhh, I was thinking more like a Marriott but it's okay, we just won’t be staying in the same place.”

  
Dylan rolled his eyes, “You know, this really isn't a bad idea. Nice job, Eichel.” He reached over to high five him. Connor groaned. “All I have to do is convince Mitch that he doesn't need flowers!” he said.

  
“Oh god, the _flowers_.” Connor complained, resting his chin in the palm of his hand. He looked a little worn out just from this conversation and for a second Dylan actually thought he broke him.

 

  
\---

  
He did actually end up bringing home a bouquet of flowers the next day just to sweeten Mitch up. He was sort of nervous to bring up the ideas of Vegas, what if Mitch thought he was joking and laughed in his face or worse, got upset? What if Mitch was set on blowing through his entire life savings on groom suits and a _venue_?

  
Maybe he should have gotten two dozen roses instead of one but he did get a box of chocolates and a little beanie baby that was on sale by the cash register so that should do.

  
Mitch was in the shower when he got home, so he had time to set everything up on the table and plan out exactly what he was going to say. He remembered Jack had texted him a few starter sentences earlier that he could try out, but Connor’s **‘don't do it!!! I will not be apart of this!!!’** text was in the way, so he just deleted that one.

  
Dylan took a deep breath and tried the first one out, “ _Hey, you know how we’re trying to be more spontaneous?_ ”

  
He shook his head, that was too broad and not specific enough. So cleared his throat and moved on to the second one, “ _You can’t fuckin’ force me to marry you in Canada_.” No, too aggressive. Mitch wouldn't appreciate that.

  
He scrolled down to the next one, “You know, budgets are sexy...”

  
“Oh my god, Dylan.”

  
He almost gave himself whiplash with how quick he spun around, knocking a roll of paper towels down from the counter. Mitch was standing there with crossed arms, “I can't believe you're still going on about how you love saving money more than you love me.”

  
“I wasn't uh-” Dylan shoved his hands in his pockets with a careful grin, chuckling uncertainly. “How long have you been standing there?”

  
Mitch stepped around him to get to the fridge, giving him a weird look. “When you started talking to yourself about how much budgets turn you on.”

  
He relaxed internally, actually fighting the urge to clutch his heart in relief. “Did you uh- did you see this?” Dylan asked, gesturing to the table where all his bribes were laid out. Mitch peered over, inching forward to the spread. “Valentine’s Day was like three months ago, babe. Is that a beanie baby?”

  
Mitch picked it up, squishing the beads around. He squinted his eyes suspiciously. “Did you do something?”

  
Alright, the beanie baby was probably a bit much.

  
“No, what I can’t buy you a beanie baby every once in awhile?” Dylan questioned as he leaned against the table, picking at the plastic wrap on the box of chocolates.

  
“Dylan, you’ve never even bought me roses or a box of chocolates until now.” Mitch said and grabbed the chocolates from him, breaking them open. He watched as Mitch picked a caramel filled one out and bit into it, smacking his lips together. “Well, come on- let’s hear it. What’d you do?”

  
Dylan pulled a chair out and sat down across from him. He started playing with the flimsy bubble wrap that came inside the box just so he had something to do with his hands.

  
Jack’s sentence starters were so lame, he couldn't possibly use any of them but Mitch seemed to be staring right through him with impatient laser beams of a gaze.   
Dylan swore he even heard the sound of a tapping foot and before he knew it, he was blurting out- “So uh hey you know how we’re trying to be more spontaneous?” _Fuck_ , he was now so lame.

  
Mitch looked off to the side, as if he were trying to remember. “When did we decide that? Was I drunk?”

  
Dylan shook his head. Yeah, that wasn't going to work. However, Mitch unknowingly gave him a little leeway so he decided to try the other one, but a little softer. “Um, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about actually. Last week when we went to that bar, you kept going on about how you wanted to do something different when we get married. Like you even said that you didn't want to bother stressing with even finding a place to do it at.”

  
“Did I? Hmm, I don't remember that.” Mitch said, popping another chocolate in his mouth.

  
Dylan was sure he was close to breaking a sweat at this point. “Yeah...do you- like what do you think about that?”

  
He shrugged, “It can be wherever, doesn't matter to me.” Perfect, he was getting a little closer now. Dylan slowly nodded, watching him carefully. “So you’re open to...wherever?”

  
“As long as we’re not getting married in a cemetery or like, a McDonald's.”

  
Dylan leaned forward a bit, sneakily pushing the chocolates closer to him and Mitch’s eyes widened, gladly taking another one. “What if we went to Vegas.”

  
He held his breath and waited. Mitch made a disgusted face, “ _Eww_ , that one was rasberry.” He ran over to the sink to spit it out, a long string of saliva hanging off his lip.

  
Dylan pressed his lips together, “Did you hear me?”

  
“Hold on.” Mitch came back over to the table, studying the flavor sheet and picked out all the fruit filled chocolates and gathered them to throw away.

  
“Fuck those raspberry ones, _who the hell_ likes those anyways?”

  
Dylan was getting a little antsy now, “Mitch.”

  
“You were saying something about Las Vegas?”

  
Dylan nodded.

  
“Sure.”

  
He stilled, “Are you serious?” Mitch finally sat back down, meeting his eyes now and shrugged. “Why not?”

  
Dylan had to take a second. Something wasn't right, Mitch must have not been understanding him. “Wait- _really_? You would want to get married in Vegas?” Dylan repeated.

  
“If that’s what you want, then yeah. Let’s do it.” Mitch agreed easily.

  
If Dylan would have known that it’d be this easy, he wouldn't have had gotten so worked up over this and maybe skipped out on buying all these bribes. It sorta was a waste of money.

  
“Oh thank god. I really didn't want a huge wedding and I was so worried that you needed to have one because of your magazines.” Dylan let out a happy sigh and relaxed back into his chair, folding his hands behind his head and Mitch just grinned at him, “I don’t need anything, Dyl. I jus’ want to marry you.”

  
Sometimes, when he wasn't busy finding different ways to spend Dylan's money on overpriced Italian food, Mitch could be sentimental and sweet like that.

  
Still smiling, he picked the beanie baby back up and said, “We better only be doing this once, so let’s go do something different and have fun with it. Although, we’ll have to throw a party for the parents because my mom’s not gonna be happy.”

  
Dylan was sure his parents wouldn't be too ecstatic either, but he and Mitch were grown adults and they were getting married- they could do it however they wanted.

  
“Oh, Dylan.” Mitch’s expression fell into a glum realization, “That means we won't be able to register or get presents.”

  
“We already have too much stuff, we don't need presents.” Dylan said, twisting the gold band around his left hand a few times.

  
Mitch made a noise of protest, “ _You_ don’t need presents. Don’t drag me into you're kind of lifestyle.”

  
\---

  
“Realistically, we’re looking at about forty hours of actual driving time and that’s not counting stops.” Jack stated as he scribbling something down on the pad of paper in front of him.

  
Dylan frowned, “What happened to thirty two hours? Both Google and Connor said so.”

  
He looked up with an amused smile on his lips. “Mmm, yeah no. There’s no way that’s gonna happen. Trust me, you're not gonna want to be in the car for more than ten hours a day.”

  
After he and Mitch officially agreed on getting hitched in Vegas, they decided on this notion: the sooner, the better. Dylan was just so relieved that his soon to be husband was cool enough to do this in the the first place, he was ready jump online and book their plane tickets but when he offhandedly mentioned about how he stupidly thought about preferring to drive there, Mitch’s eyes widened excitedly and he got all giddy because _road_ _trip_. And look- it was cute and Dylan could only put his foot down so many times or rather, attempt to.

  
So that’s what they were doing. They would have to take at least a week off just to drive there anyways, so they decided to make this a two week trip. A two week trip that Dylan didn't want to plan and that’s why they were sitting at the best window booth _Hot Tomato Strome’s_ had to offer and why he was making Jack do his dirty work.

  
Dylan had sent Mitch a picture of their table to prove they weren’t by the kitchen and he’d just texted back the emoji with the zipped mouth shut.

  
Coincidentally, Mitch was running late. Which Dylan knew was a lie and that he was probably still at home, watching one of those annoying midday talk shows while he finished off the rest of his chocolates.

  
Connor was supposedly ten minutes away with Mikey and Nate who had no clue about the Vegas thing yet so that's really who Dylan was waiting on.

  
“I’d say it’s safer to aim for nine or ten hours of driving each day minimum.” Jack said again. “It’ll take four days to drive there if we’re going at a comfortable pace and back which leaves us six days for a wedding get and spend drunk.”

  
“Four straight days of ten hours in the car. Huh.” he mumbled. Despite not looking forward to that, Dylan was getting more and more anxious every day.

  
He was getting _married_. Married to his fiance, someone who he’d actually at one time hated and never thought he would have ended up with three years ago. And they were doing it in Las Vegas- the city where _whatever happens there, stays there_. It was all unraveling so quick and unexpected, but it was exciting. He kinda loved it.

  
He’s never been to the Nevada before, let alone even to the States and he's sure none of the other guys have either, except for Jack of course. “I know but trust me.”

  
Dylan was having Jack figure all this because he was an expert in long road trips. He’s heard all the infamous stories a billion times each about the many spring breaks to the Vegas Strip where endless nights of partying, hangovers and losing money to the slots occurred.

  
And because he's actually driven there from Boston in college, yeah Jack's kinda the expert. “I guess I can trust the American.”

  
Jack tapped his pen against the notepad, looking around. “Damn straight.”  
  
Dylan made sure to put an order in for a large pizza twenty minutes before so it would be ready by the time they arrived. Well, they've been here for about fifteen minutes now and it still wasn't ready.

  
He considered complaining, but there were enough people working here that already thought of him as Ryan’s bratty little brother because of the lies Ryan implanted in their brains. Honestly, his brother should be glad he was _even giving them business_.

  
“Go get me more Diet Coke, will you?” Jack held out his plastic cup. The tip of the straw was flattened out with teeth marks. Dylan made a face at that and Jack just rolled his eyes, “You’re forcing me to plan out your dumb road trip so you can get married in a drive thru, the least you can do is fill my cup.”

  
Dylan snatched his cup from him, “You were the one that came up with the idea in the first place.”

  
“Yeah when I didn't know I would become your own personal trip advisor.”

  
He thought about filling the cup with regular Coke instead of Diet but Jack would surely spot the difference just by looking at it. He and Connor were very weird about their Diet Coke.

  
Dylan ended up walking by the kitchen, really slowly to peek inside- just to see if he could spot a pizza but had to duck his head when one of the cooks made eye contact with him.

  
Of course when he got back to the table, Jack was happily sitting there with their pizza like nothing. Figures.

  
“Where's Mitch at again? Something about being stuck in traffic?”

  
 _He sure was_. Mitch must’ve really loathed coming here if he was intentionally missing out on his road trip Vegas planning. “That's what he says.” Dylan shrugs, then checks the time on his phone. “What’s taking them so long to get here?”

  
This time Jack jutted his chin out, “Right there.”

  
As if on cue, Dylan felt a breeze of air flash by him and looked up to see Mikey sliding in the booth next to Jack. “What’s up? Marner not here?”

  
“Traffic.” Jack answered. “Or he got tired of Dylan’s cheapness so he married someone else.”

  
Mikey looked a little confused but laughed along anyway. “Who married someone else?” Nathan quipped as he slide in next to him. He pointed to Jack’s notepad. “What are you writing over there huh? Poetry?”

  
Jack took a break from sipping on his drink with a careful expression. _Okay_ \- Dylan might have mixed regular and Diet Coke together. He’d just wanted to see what would happen. “Excuse me, these are my calculations.”

  
Connor now joined them, setting down a stack of napkins down along with a Diet Coke of his own and as soon as he sat down, Jack asks, “Hey do you think we should rent a car or just take mine? Cause if we take mine, I’ll have to take it into the shop before we go…”

  
“I just want to let everyone know that I am choosing not to participate in decision making because I don't agree with two of my best friends getting married in Vegas so with that being said-”

  
“Wait, _what_?” Nathan interrupted, leering over at Dylan with an astounded expression. “You’re gonna go to Las Vegas to get married? I thought Marner wanted a huge and expensive wedding?”

  
Connor jumped in before Dylan could even open his mouth to speak. “Yeah, well we can all say goodbye to that because Dylan’s going to pull right up to a drive thru-”

  
This time Mikey was the one to shake his head and look even more confused. Mikey just always looked confused. “ _What_?”

  
“Okay, nobody listen to Connor. I never even said anything about doing it in a drive thru.” Dylan announced to the table, then glanced at Connor who just raised his eyebrows, “Stop trying to make me look bad.”

  
Dylan continued, “Listen, Mitch and I just decided we don't want a big wedding, so we’re gonna take a trip to Vegas and just... do it.”

  
“Wait are you guys getting married in Vegas too?” Mikey asked, pointing in between Connor and Jack.

  
What truly brings Dylan great joy in life, is when Connor gets all flustered and red from embarrassment. Especially when he deserved it from being so aggravating. It was all very satisfying.

  
“Are you kidding me, I am not getting _hitched_ in Vegas! Unlike everyone at this table, I actually appreciate and value the traditional wedding.” Connor exclaimed.

  
Jack’s eyebrow’s scrunched together and he crossed his arms. “Yeah _we know_. You literally haven't stopped talking about it all week. What are you trying to tell me here?”

  
He was obviously joking to mess with him, but the way Connor still got all hot and bothered was priceless. Jack smirked at them and Dylan couldn't help but stifle his own laugh before surveying back to Mikey and Nate. “Well you guys are coming, right?”

  
The pair just looked at each other reluctantly, “You want us to drive all the way to Las Vegas?” Nate questioned.

  
Dylan nodded. “Uhh, all the way there?” Mikey repeated while still looking to Nathan apprehensively.

  
“Guys, Mitch and I are _getting married_ and you don't even want to spend that with us?”

  
After a few moments of nervous chuckling from Mikey, Nate just shrugged and reached for a slice of pizza, “We can come, but you do know how much easier it would be to just go to city hall and do it, right?”

  
“Oh how boring would that be. Jesus, guys live a little.” Dylan said, rolling his eyes.

  
Mikey seemed to perk up a little, tugging his sleeves further down his arms, “I can live a little, I’m just not sure my car will…”


	2. two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack elbowed Connor in the side, clearly and blatantly getting a kick out of this and nodded his head, “There’s another thing in there.”
> 
> Dylan was actually afraid to lean over and look. He squeezed his eyes shut and reached his hand in the bag, slowly pulling the second item out. The unavoidable feeling of dread washed over him as he opened his eyes but was relieved when it was just a candle. Another candle for Mitch to occupy himself on for hours, contemplating on where and when it burn it. “Uh-”
> 
> He flinched away when Mitch snatched it out of his hand, a little combative and really, just rudely. “Oh, a candle! Pumpkin, my favorite! Wow, thanks guys!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kinda a filler, i havent even started writing the next two so it may be a few weeks before this gets updated again + im working on another story and its like taking up all my attention atm.

Even though they all of this planned out, leaving for Vegas on Sunday felt a little impulsive. A little reckless although it really wasn't. They decided to leave on a Sunday so they would get to Vegas by Wednesday and to Dylan, it already felt like a million years away. 

 

It was too early- like five thirty am early and too cold- like freezing his ass off cold. By three pm today they would be in Chicago, where they would stop for the night. They decided to take two separate rented cars because no one wanted to put the miles on their own. 

 

They were all pretty tired and laggy while putting all their luggage in the cars. Except for Nathan. Nate was too awake and cheery for Dylan’s liking. He even had a  _ smile _ on his face as he hopped in the driver's seat and Dylan gave Mikey a look, to which Mikey just scowled at and lazily flipped him off. 

 

Dylan made sure to not get stuck in a car with  _ that  _ so he hurriedly grabbed his pillow from the trunk and slid into the passenger seat of the other car. He watched out the window as Connor looked between the two cars, debating and opting to ride with him and Mitch. 

 

Not too long after, they were off. Mitch was starting the first couple hours out driving with his huge travel mug of coffee and it was pretty quiet- dark outside still and no one really felt like talking so Dylan just leaned against the window with his pillow and closed his eyes until he fell back asleep. 

 

He woke up again a while later to Connor and Mitch chattering quietly and sparingly. “Aww look who’s up, how’d you sleep babe?” Mitch asked, sneaking glances at him while trying to focus on the road. 

 

“Jeez, you slept forever.” Connor remarked from the back seat and Dylan tried to stretch out the best he could. Either his legs were too long or this rental car was too crowded. He hummed out a soft noise, and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. It was significantly brighter outside, though still grey and morning-like. It was nice, serene.

 

“I need to pee.” Connor said. Well, it was serene for a second there. “I’m gonna stop for gas at this next exit.” Mitch told him. 

 

It was quiet for a few moments and Dylan sleepily asked, “Where are we?” 

 

“In Michigan, about an hour from Detroit.” Mitch answered. “Someone text Jack so he can tell them to get off at the next exit.”

 

They drove around for a few minutes, looking for the nearest gas station. Once they stopped finally, Dylan got out of the car to stretch properly and poked his head back into the car to ask, “You’re driving next?” 

 

Connor sighed, “I guess I can, since you just woke up from your  _ pretend  _ sleep.” 

 

Mitch came back out of the store with more coffee for all of them, this time and went to start pumping gas. Dylan took the coffee out of his hands, handing a cup to Connor, “ _ Oh yeah _ , you know how I love fake sleeping to get out of things.” 

  
  


An hour later, they were in Detroit and stopped at an odd dinner for a quick bite to eat. “ _ God, this is the worst _ . Can we go back?” Mikey whined, twirling his fork against the plate so it made a slight screeching noise. Mitch slumped forward next to him. 

 

“Dude, we’re only four hours in. Toughen up, we still got like five left until we stop for the night.” Jack said and reached for the ketchup.

 

“Mikey, don't start. It’s not like you been driving this whole time.” Nate added. Four hours of driving must’ve taken it out of him because he was now at the same level of testy as the rest of them.  _ Good _ , Dylan thought bitterly.

 

Mikey just looked away, resting his head against his closed fist. He pushed his plate of eggs and hashbrowns away from him. “I’ll take this to go.”

 

“Oh really, how’re you going to eat when you're driving?” Nathan said.

 

Mikey furrowed his eyebrows together even more tightly, now just looking plain offended. “The fuck,  _ I’m _ not driving, make him drive.” and gestured over to Jack, who rolled his eyes. 

 

“Actually  _ Michael _ , in case you didn't know, it’s an unspoken road trip rule that whoever complains the most has to drive the rest of the way so...” Jack said. 

 

Mikey turned his glowering over to him now, “You can’t go making up fake road trip rules. S’not fair.” 

 

“I can do whatever I want, and I’m not the one that’s been bitching for the last half hour so you can drive.” Jack argued and Nathan made a noise of agreement. 

 

“No.” Mikey said, stubborn and unblinking.

 

This time Connor piped in, “Jack, why don’t you just drive the next three and a half hours and then Mikey you drive the rest, that way you guys split it.” 

 

Jack shook his head, “Nope, he can drive all of it.”

 

“I’m  _ not  _ driving.” Mikey repeated. Nathan gawked at him from across the table, “Stop acting like this, you’re just ruining everyone’s mood.” 

 

Look- it was still early and Dylan wasn't in the mood. Really, he felt like the dad that couldn't handle the bitching and moaning from the wife and kids on vacation. “ _ Oh my god _ , will you guys shut up already? Is this what it's like in the car with you three? Jesus.” 

 

He’s lucky Mitch and Connor weren't this bad- or at least they were quiet about it.

 

Nathan just shrugged, “We put the radio on.” 

 

Surprisingly, the rest of the drive went by pretty quickly for them. They only had to make two more stops to fill their tanks up until they were in Chicago and done for the day. 

 

“Finally, we made it!” Mitch cried out. Dylan pulled into the parking lot of a Best Western. They couldn't find a Holliday Inn or thankfully a Marriott so this will have to do. He sighed, “Fucking finally.”

 

Connor unbuckled his seatbelt, “Can you believe we have to do that again for the next three days?”

“All in the name of love.” Mitch declared and got out of the car. 

 

\---

 

All in the name of love was right because three long, long, long days later, they arrived to their destination.

 

Las Vegas was...a lot. Everything seemed to spin around in a blur, one big neon blur and they’ve technically only been here for ten minutes. They were lucky enough to book rooms in a affordable, non shitty but small hotel on the strip and it wasn't all too shabby. 

 

“I can't wait to gamble my ass off.” Jack sighed, flopping himself on top of the bed. He was exhausted, between listening to Mikey’s endless bitching and the terrible top 40 radio station Nate wouldn't let anyone change for four days straight. It was a little after five o’clock and they didn't have any plans tonight because everyone was ready to sleep the rest of the day off. 

 

Connor laughed from the bathroom. “You better take it easy in the casinos. I’m not gonna be happy if we leave Vegas with a negative bank account.”

 

And he couldn't help but smile because yeah, they shared a bank account now. “Do you think the newlyweds have a joint account?”

 

Connor came out of the bathroom, sitting on the bed next to him. “I think Mitch has all of Dylan’s credit cards already memorized by heart. Why?” 

 

Jack smiled, “Oh no reason.” 

 

It wasn't a competition, but if it was- all he’s saying is that having a joint bank account was a lot more risky and cooler than getting engaged. 

 

“Should we get them a wedding gift? Do we even have to?” Connor asked. “I mean, we are already doing this with them, that should be enough right?”

 

Jack turned to look at him this time, “I really hope Dylan’s cheapness isn't rubbing off on you.” Connor went to tiredly swat his arm, but missed by a couple inches. “It wouldn't hurt to get them like...a vase or something.”

 

“A  _ vase _ .” Connor deadpanned blankly. He just nodded, it’s not like Dylan and Mitch had any vases anyway. Might as well, be the first to give them one. “Everyone could use a good vase.” Jack told him.

 

They ended up at Home Goods, looking for said vase. Jack had tried to nap for a bit, but Connor got restless after he gave up on trying to sleep and took to mildly kicking him in the side and denying it when Jack told him to cut it out. This went on until Jack was forced to get up with him and go vase hunting. 

 

Vegas had several Home Goods actually, but the one they were at right now was the least sketchy looking. “What about this one?” Connor held up a small sky blue glass vase. “It says it’s recycled glass. Is that good?”

 

Jack studied it for a minute and shook his head. “Recycled glass doesn't scream Mr. and Mr. Marner- er Strome. Are they changing their names?”

 

“Not sure, but if they are they should hyphenate it. That’s what I want to do.” Connor said, picking up a multi-colored glass one this time. “This one’s shaped weird.”

 

Jack took it from him, holding it up to the light. “Really? I would have thought you would want to keep your name.”

 

Connor shrugged, “Maybe, but there’s certain names that just have a nice ring together.” 

 

Jack side eyed him, “Like what?”

 

“Well, Strome-Marner doesn't sound awful. Or like, McDavid-Eichel, you know…”  He was grinning now, with an edge of teasing stapled onto it and he grabbed the vase back out of Jack’s hands to set it back on the shelf. 

 

“Actually I didn't know. McDavid-Eichel, huh?” Jack intoned. He guessed it had a nice ring to it. 

 

“Connor McDavid-Eichel. Kind of a mouthful, don’t you think?” Connor turned away from him, picking out a ceramic vase this time. “Nothin’ I can’t handle.” he said casually.

 

Clearly, Connor has caught wedding fever. No wonder he hated his Vegas idea in the first place. On Marner and Dylan’s behalf, Jack was glad they decided to come here. If they would have had a normal wedding back in Toronto, Connor would have surely tried to live out  _ his  _ wedding fantasies through them. 

 

“Hey, what about this one?” Connor inquired, breaking him out of his thoughts. He was holding up an opalescent cylinder shaped vase. It glittered slightly in the light and Jack smirked at him. “ _That’s_ _perfect_.”

 

Connor turned it over upside down, “It’s only forty bucks.” Then he let out a small gasp, like he was remembering something, “Let’s get them a candle too. I know Mitch likes candles.”

 

Without waiting, he started heading off to a different aisle. Jack lingered with the vases for while, looking for any other shimmery or glittery ones that he compare their current choice to but couldn't find any. He was about to go find Connor only to run into him when he rounded the corner. “Hey, watch it. You're gonna make me drop this.” he scolded. 

 

“You watch it.” Connor shot back, rolling his eyes. “I can’t decide between White Pumpkin or Pumpkin Spice.”

 

He was holding up two candles that looked the exact same in its matte, muted cream color holder and Jack just stared at him until Connor rolled his eyes again exasperatedly. “Well, the Pumpkin Spice has  _ more spice _ than the White Pumpkin.” 

 

“Um…” 

 

Jack could see it now, Connor nearly giving himself an aneurysm because he couldn't decide if the accent color for their reception should be copper or a reddish orange color. 

  
  


\---

 

“We got you a wedding gift, like an early wedding gift.” Jack said as soon as they walked into their room. They were about to head out for a while to go get dinner and explore for a bit.

 

Connor held out the present, and Dylan stared at the gift bag. It had a cartoon baby in a crib on it that said  _ ‘It’s a boy!’ _ and he heard someone start to crack up behind him. “It was the only one we could find related to weddings or marriage so…”

 

“Aww, I didn't know you guys were pregnant.” Nathan said with a straight face, and- that was Mikey laughing behind him. Dylan glanced over his shoulder to glare. 

 

Mitch looked at the gift bag, his whole face lighting up with thrill. “Can we open it right now?” He stopped to wait for Dylan’s approval. 

 

“Yeah, go for it.” Dylan told him. 

 

Mitch bounced a little on his toes and tore the hot pink tissue paper out, tossing it over his shoulder only for it to just float into Dylan’s face and he gasped delightedly. “Wow, it’s so pretty! I love it!” 

 

Dylan grimaced when Mitch pulled out the most  _ hideous  _ looking vase he’s ever seen.  _ Great _ , Mitch was gonna actually want to display that in their house. 

 

Jack elbowed Connor in the side, clearly and blatantly getting a kick out of this and nodded his head, “There’s another thing in there.” 

 

Dylan was actually afraid to lean over and look. He squeezed his eyes shut and reached his hand in the bag, slowly pulling the second item out. The unavoidable feeling of dread washed over him as he opened his eyes but was relieved when it was just a candle. Another candle for Mitch to occupy himself for hours, contemplating on where and when it burn it.  “Uh-”

 

He flinched away when Mitch snatched it out of his hand, a little combative and really, just rudely. “Oh, a  _ candle _ ! Pumpkin, my favorite! Wow, thanks guys!”

 

Both Connor and Jack were watching him with a pleased expression, like they knew how unimpressed Dylan was. It was obviously amusing to them that their whole dynamic was Mitch being aloof and unconcerned while he was just done with it all the time. 

 

He looked at the vase again and decided he had to give them some credit. They did do a good job, it was absolutely the worst thing he’s ever laid eyes on. 

 

“Hmm, now all we need is something to put in the vase.” Mitch hinted, waggling his eyebrows at Mikey, who was also now staring at the vase with a disentranced look on his face. See, even he knew the vase was not a good idea. 

 

“Alright, can we go now?” Nate queried, “I need to eat something or I’m gonna pass out.” 

 

They ended up at this steakhouse on the strip , called the  _ Strip House _ . That name alone was enough to wheel them in. What Dylan thought was interesting was that, this place was ten times more fancier looking than that Italian place back in Toronto and yet their food was significantly less expensive. When he expressed that point to Mitch, his thigh just got pinched. “I don't want to hear another word about that restaurant,  _ or else _ .” 

 

“I’m just sayin,” Dylan spread his arms wide. “It sure is interesting.” Mitch rolled his eyes and proceed to ask for two rounds of shots on top of the drinks they just ordered. 

 

When Connor raised his eyebrows at him, he just smiled, “I just really feel like getting lit tonight.”

 

Mikey let out sharp laugh from the end of the table, “Getting lit? Who even says that anymore.” 

 

“By the end of tonight, you’ll be rambling on about how  _ lit  _ you are. Just watch.” Mitch said but Mikey wasn't paying attention to him anymore, getting distracted by the appetizers that were just set on their table. 

 

And Dylan tensed a bit because Mitch always kept his word. 

 

They ended up spending most of the night at the casino next door, mostly just messing around with the slots but he actually won some money so he was pretty stoked about that. 

 

It was a little after three in the morning and when they got back to their room. Mitch was absolutely hammered. As soon as they opened the door, he starting laughing hysterically at the swan towel the cleaning people left on their bed, his knees buckling and Dylan had catch him so he didn't topple over.

 

“What the fuck is a swan...” Dylan begun, and Mitch’s face was turning red now as he gasped for air. It was kind of funny because of how random it was. It’s not like they were expecting that.

 

“Babe,  _ breathe _ .” he told him with a snicker and smacked the swan off the bed, which just made Mitch laugh even harder. 

 

Dylan sat him down and bent down to take his shoes off. “Are you tryin’ to get in my pants, baaabe?” Mitch slurred out, drawing out his words.

 

After four shots of whiskey, two gin and tonics and a couple of beers, the room was pretty much spinning at this point. It was a wonder how he was even still standing up right now when there was a bed right in front of him. “ _ Fuck _ , move over.” 

 

Dylan took his own shirt off before crawling up next to him and Mitch started laughing again for no apparent reason. He’d had a lot to drink tonight also and true to his word, got Mikey absolutely wasted along with him.

 

Dylan watched them down shot after shot, each becoming sloppy and all to chattery with it while the rest of them went at a much more reasonable pace because they were still in public and well, they still had to keep an eye out to make sure no one did anything  _ completely  _ stupid.

 

It was hilarious watching how Connor looked on at them with an uneasy expression as he leniently sipped his margarita because they _ all knew _ how Mikey got when he drank. It could go two ways- he would either get super hyper and overjoyed or become moody and lethargic before passing out. It wasn't too long before he inevitably puked in a nice looking flower pot that Dylan could actually appreciate outside of a liquor store and Nathan decided it was time to take him back to the hotel, much to Mikey’s vomit covered dismay. 

 

While he thinks Connor and Jack went inside to buy a bottle to bring back to their room, Dylan grabbed Mitch who was petting Mikey’s hair, apologizing for causing this and followed Nate because it was getting late and it probably was time to head back. 

 

“Y’know what would be really, very nice right now?” 

 

Dylan lifted his hips off the bed to scoot his pants off. “Hmm?” 

 

Mitch tried to sit up but ended up just slumping awkwardly onto him. “Want me to take your clothes off?” Dylan asked.

 

He cackled loudly, this time right in his ear and buried his head in Dylan’s neck. “But I don’ think I can geddit up right now.” That made Dylan snort, “ _ Obviously _ .” 

 

Dylan unbuttoned his pants, but couldn't do much with Mitch just leaning on him, eyes closed and breathing through his mouth. “Can you help me out here?” 

 

Mitch twisted so it was a tad bit easier to wriggle them off but it still took like a good two minutes to achieve what should’ve been a simple task. Dylan left his shirt on and and grabbed three bottles of water to set on the nightstand, taking a couple of sips of one for himself. Mitch was now flipped onto his stomach, jaw still slack but he was breathing in evenly and slowly.

 

The tag on his boxers was sticking out so Dylan tucked it back in for him with a pat on his ass and switched the lamps off. He climbed over him and lied down with a sigh, wincing a little because his back hurt. Dylan turned his head to the side, even though he couldn't see Mitch in the dark, “I love you.” he whispered. 

 

Just when he thought Mitch was actually asleep, he bumped his foot into Dylan’s and mumbled, “Mmm, I love you too. ‘M husband.”

 

He thought about what they would do tomorrow, or what they could do that required the least amount of energy and focus other than ordering room service and sleeping. Mitch giggled in the dark, swinging his arm over Dylan’s chest like a dead weight. “ _ Fuckin swan _ …”

 

\---

 

“We should get a Great Dane.”

 

Mikey groaned internally and buried his head further into his pillow as an attempt to block out the noise. He wasn't officially awake yet- not even really awake at all really. All he knew was that he drank too much and may or may not have thrown up on Nate’s bare feet last night because he couldn't make it to the bathroom in time.

 

This hangover was going to suck. He could already feel that the shoulder he was laying on, aching badly so he had to roll over on his back and as soon as he did that, a wave of nausea hit him like a sledgehammer coming at him with full speed. He gagged a few times, but was able to hold it in. 

 

“...like a really big dog.”  _ Why was Nate always so fucking loud in the mornings? _

 

There was some muffled banging noises going on somewhere in the corner of the room and Nate disappeared into the bathroom, leaving the door wide open so that it was no longer pitch black behind his eyelids.

 

The combination of the bathroom light, bright and blinding into his corneas and the echoing sound of urine hitting the toilet bowl was  _ just lovely _ . Mikey breathed in deeply, trying to keep his gagging and irritation to a minimum and slowly got himself out of bed to stumble across the room and slam the door shut.

He flopped back into bed, immediately regretting it because of his stomach and got under the covers, making sure to fold the sheets under his feet so they don't stick out. 

 

The toilet flushed and it was completely silent for a moment and he was right on the edge of dozing back off when the bathroom door swung open again. 

 

“Did you remember to pay the cable like I told you yesterday?”

 

Oh shit. Fuck. The cable was due yesterday, he was supposed to remember to jump online before they went out and pay it since it was his turn but...well, then drinking got in the way.

 

Instead of owning up to it, he strained his head to peer at Nathan, who was just a silhouette now due to the bathroom light still being on. 

 

“Will you shut the fuck up, I’m trying to sleep.” 

 

And- he wasn't even being a jerk, it's just that Nate did this like every morning, whether they were on vacation or not and Mikey was way to hungover right now to deal with it. It went pitch black in the room again and  _ thank god _ , he closed his eyes and sank back into his perfect, satiny dreamland. 

 

When he we woke up again a few hours later, he was still alone in bed and the early crack of dawn light was beginning to peek through the now parted curtains. There were pillows stacked all around him, like barriers to keep him from rolling off. Nate probably did that while he was asleep because he said Mikey tossed and turned too much. His boyfriend was so cute and he felt bad now for snapping at him earlier. 

 

He didn't feel like he was going to puke at this very moment but he was scared to sit up just in case, so he slowly turned onto his side. There were no sounds of shuffling or moving around in the suite, so he wondered if Nathan went out or something. Mikey stretched his legs out and moved over to Nate’s side of the bed where it was nice and cold. He reached for his phone just enough so that he could press a button on his phone to make it light up. 

 

_ 9:26 _

 

He still can't believe that Nate is such a morning person. Even after a long night like last night, he was pretty sure they didn't even get back until like 3 am and Nate still was up earlier at 6 am. He willingly did that every day, like even on  _ weekends _ . 

 

What the hell that was all about, Mikey will never know. He was sure though- other than Nathan and now, him that no one else was up at this time anyways so he laid back down with a sigh. 

 

A few minutes later Nathan came in, opening the door quietly and Mikey lifted his head up to let him know he was awake. “Are you going to yell at me again?” he whispered. He was carrying two coffee cups and didn't look at all like he had a hangover, even though from what Mikey remembers, he got pretty drunk too. 

 

“No.” Mikey croaked out and made grabby hands out to him. Nate locked the door behind him and set the cups down next to the bed. He sat down on the edge, forcing Mikey to scoot back and make room for him. 

 

“Why’re so loud when ‘m tryin t’sleep? And when my head hurts?” Mikey whispered because his throat hurt now after talking. 

 

“Sorry. Do you want some Advil?” Nate whisked his hoodie off, revealing his bare torso and stood up to slip his sweatpants off. He hadn't been wearing any underwear. Mikey smiled, running his fingertips up and down Nathan’s spine and feeling him shiver. 

 

Nate was now completely nude. He did that a lot, liked being naked. Like he slept naked literally every night, woke up and walked around the house naked, watched the five o’clock news and sipped his coffee naked and Mikey saw him actually scramble eggs naked once and that was really weird. 

 

It was an odd little habit Mkey never knew about until they started living together. Not that he was complaining, it was actually kind of endearing. An endearing Nate thing.

 

Mikey nodded his head and proceeded to roll onto his side, so that he was facing the window now. “Did you even sleep at all?” 

The mattress dipped behind him and Nate handed him a water bottle and two small tablets. “A little bit,” he said and his skin was cold to the touch, but when he started pressing smacking kisses to the back of Mikey’s neck, it made it all okay. “Don't go back to sleep.” 

 

The whine that came out of Mikey’s throat was a little embarrassing, he just wanted a couple more hours. “Please let me.”

 

Nate breathed out a quiet laugh and pressed another kiss to his neck, hot and syrupy this time, “You need to pay the cable, babe. So it’ll be on when we get back home.”

 

Mikey told him to chill and let out another whine when Nate slapped his thermal clad thigh. He wondered why Nate even bothered putting pajamas on him. “Be responsible and pay our bills.”

 

So living and sharing bills together was not as terrifying as Mikey thought. It was kinda cool living with someone that you could do whatever with and not have to worry about roommates. Shit like share a bottle of honey whiskey while attempting to make fajitas and sending drunk Snapchats to Connor at 2 am. He liked those moments the best, sweet and sickly domestic but the thought of honey whiskey right now made him want to puke. 

 

Mikey ignored him and reached back to grab ahold of his hand that was resting on the outside of his thigh, moving it down to his lower stomach until it rested on the front of his sleeping pants. He wasn't hard but he just woke up and Nathan was already naked, pressed up behind up so it wouldn't take much. “Or you could...you know.”

 

“I thought you were tryin’ to sleep and your head hurts?” Nate mocked and his phone vibrated on the nightstand so he pulled away to check it. Mikey grumbled at the loss of contact and muttered into his pillow, “Dude, I got  _ so  _ drunk last night.”

 

Nathan made a noise, “I know Mike, you threw up like four times and once was on me.” 

 

Huh, so he  _ did  _ throw up on his feet. See, he wasn't sure because he didn't recall the entire thing, but he remembers snippets of Nate squealing and running with a funny half walk half jump over to the shower, leaving Mikey to crawl pathetically over to the toilet. He may have even put his own hand in the spot he puked in, probably. Not his best moment.  “Why’d you let me do that…” 

 

Nathan rolled back over to cling onto him again, and went back to kissing his neck, “What am I gonna stop you from puking?” 

 

He smirked and twisted back to give him a proper kiss on the lips, there was a faint taste of grease and fast food on Nate’s tongue and he pulled away, “Ugh, you’re gonna make me start gagging again. Brush your teeth.”

 

“Hey, don't be rude. You didn't brush your teeth last night after vomiting all over me and I still kissed you.” 

 

His own mouth did still feel kinda gummy and dry and there was a lingering taste of stinging alcohol on the inside of his cheeks. “Aww, thanks babe. Shows how much you love me.” he smiled sweetly and pulled on Nathan’s arm so it wrapped around him, listening to him grumble about how inconsiderate Mikey was. 

  
  


\---

 

While the others were probably in bed still at one in the afternoon, Dylan and Mitch got their sore and hungover asses up to go visit the Marriage License Bureau. Of course, the one thing they didn't even think about before they left to come here was getting their marriage license. He was dreading the thought of standing there with his splitting headache and overall shitty feeling for who knows how long filling paperwork out but turns out, the whole process was  _ a lot _ quicker than he’d expected.

 

After about thirty minutes, Dylan was staring down at the documents. “That’s it?”

 

The receptionist smiled at them, cheerfully, “That’s it! Have a wonderful life together.” 

 

Mitch was chewing on his bottom lip, “Alright, Dyl. We can get married any time now...officially.” he said as they were leaving. His voice was a little shaky, like he couldn't believe how sudden it all seemed either.

 

“Holy shit,” Dylan felt like his stomach was literally tying itself into knots. “We can literally go right now if we wanted.”

 

“Yeah.” Mitch breathed out. It was just a piece of paper saying that they were legal to get married, but it felt a little surreal. Once they did it, that was it- they would be married, they would legally become  _ family _ . Mitch looked up at him, “We’re not going to do it at a drive thru, right? Can we at least do the chapel thing?”

 

“Yes, of course.  _ Fucking Connor. _ ” Dylan laughed. Mitch bit his lip, face suddenly serious and they started walking again, “When do you want to go?”

 

It felt a little urgent, like it would suddenly expire and for a second, Dylan wanted to drive over to the Chapel of Flowers place right this second. 

 

“Umm, tomorrow?” Mitch asked. “We don't have to-”

 

Dylan cut in, “No, let’s do it tomorrow.” 

 

“Okay.” He couldn't help but let a shy smile wash over his face and he ducked his head when Mitch tried to grab his chin, “Why’re you always so serious. Smile, we’re getting married tomorrow.”

 

“I am smiling.” Dylan countered and made a show of grinning wide, then going back to a serious face. 


End file.
